


What Happens At Padme's

by consideritalljoy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: ? ish, Canon Compliant, Crack, Everybody gets drunk, Fluff, Gen, including ahsoka who is underaged but that doesn't happen until chapter 2, yet also somehow:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:21:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22935502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consideritalljoy/pseuds/consideritalljoy
Summary: The Team is back on Coruscant for some weeks of leave. Obi-Wan expects he'll be spending the time relaxing quietly in the Temple. He is very wrong.
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 12
Kudos: 114





	1. Space Applebee's

**Author's Note:**

> (I looped Family by Mother Mother while writing this, so that vibe is deeeeep in this fic's bones. I suggest checking out the song. It's a good one.)

Six months into the Clone War, Obi-Wan found himself back on Coruscant, trying to make up as much lost sleep as he could before being shipped off again. His efforts weren’t going very well, but he attempted nonetheless. 

Anakin and Ahsoka were busy sparring, Ahsoka had classes to catch up on and friends to see, and Anakin had a certain senator to occupy his time with. Obi-Wan had sleep and meditation. Not to worry—he greatly relished in both those things. 

He was just finishing a session of meditation and contemplating a trip to the Jedi Archives just to brush up on a few things when Anakin entered his quarters, without knocking, of course. The light of the hallway flooded Obi-Wan’s dimmed quarters, and he squinted as he looked up at Anakin from his position in the center of the room. It was really Obi-Wan’s own fault for giving him and Ahsoka the door code… not that he really minded. 

In response to Anakin’s intrusion, he simply raised an eyebrow. 

“We need to go drinking,” Anakin said without hesitation. 

Obi-Wan cocked his head. “We do?” Frankly, he hadn’t anticipated so much as hearing from Anakin until they were offworld again. For Anakin to give up a whole night with Senator Amidala was… unexpected. Obi-Wan didn’t feel any distress in Anakin’s Force signature to suggest a fight, but that could just mean he was hiding it. 

“Yes,” Anakin continued confidently. “We haven’t been planetside long enough to do it ever since the war started, and I’m not gonna let the war take Drunk Obi-Wan away from me.” 

“I thought you were busy tonight?” Obi-Wan tried. Not that he, officially, knew what it was Anakin would be doing. 

Anakin jerked his head back and huffed. “Why would you think that?” Perhaps a bit defensive, Obi-Wan noted. “I’m completely free. And so’s Ahsoka. I talked to her on my way over here.”

At that, Obi-Wan’s eyes hardened. “She’s underaged.”

“And?”

“And,” Obi-Wan said slowly, “We are NOT getting her a fake ID.”

“You’re no fun,” Anakin told him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine. Ahsoka can drive us back, then. Probably for the best anyway.”

“Quite. You forget, I’ve made no answer as of yet.”

“Oh come on, Obi-Wan. You’ve barely left this room since we got back.” Anakin looked around a bit as he said the last, no doubt disapproving of the darkness. He had a point about the window, perhaps. He didn’t much care for fluorescent lights, but it _was_ unlike him to have shut the window, too. 

“I see quite enough action as it is, thank you.” The words came out more terse than he’d meant them. 

If Anakin noticed the edge in Obi-Wan’s tone, though, he didn’t react to it. He only rolled his eyes. “For old time’s sake.” He started moving around to the other side of the room. 

Obi-Wan followed him with his eyes, then twisted his torso around as Anakin kept moving behind him. “Kriff, Anakin, you’re making it sound like all we did before the war was drink. It only happened a few times.”

Anakin only grinned, hitting the panel to turn off the window shade, letting the much softer light of Coruscant’s star brighten Obi-Wan’s living room. He turned around and gestured to the door. “Yeah, well, let’s go make it one more.”

“Fine.” It was always so hard to say no to Anakin, Obi-Wan thought with fabricated annoyance. “But Master Windu never hears about this.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Anakin laughed. “I never tell Master Windu anything.”

“And yet he always finds out,” Obi-Wan countered, standing. 

Anakin shot him a reproachful glare. “That’s only when you tell him.”

“Is not!”

“Sure, master,” Anakin replied, briefly laying a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Let’s just get out of here.” 

Not long after, the two of them picked up Ahsoka and headed out. It really had been a while, and they’d never gone with Ahsoka. With her along, they chose a more tame locale—somewhere that would let her in. A small hole-in-the-wall type place he and Anakin hadn’t been to in years. They slid into a booth in the corner, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka on one side, Anakin on the other. 

The two of them ordered their beverages of choice—Obi-Wan a Corellian whiskey, neat, and Anakin an Alderaanian cider—and Ahsoka asked for a Moogan tea and one of the endless Endorian chicken tender baskets. 

It wasn’t often that the three of them spent time together when not on the front lines. Over the next few hours, he and Anakin ordered several rounds. They were only three in when Anakin’s speech started to slur and his posture loosened. He also got louder, and normally, that might have worried Obi-Wan. Three whiskeys in, though, he merely found it almost endearing. 

Ahsoka had decided that just because she couldn’t have any alcohol didn’t mean she couldn’t be in on the rounds. At the start of the night, she swore she’d finish off a basket of Endorian chicken for every drink the two of them consumed. And so far, she was holding true to it. 

“You know why you’re so uptight, master?” Anakin slurred, gesturing with his drink across the table. 

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and took a sip of the whiskey. It was still his third, even though Anakin had charged ahead with a spiked Meiloorun squeeze. 

“It’s because you drink that bantha spit,” Anakin finished. 

“Now, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, quite calmly. “I’d think twice before saying anything so crass about Corellian whiskey. Force knows, it’s all that’s gotten me through eleven years of _you_ , so show a little respect.”

Anakin played at being offended while Ahsoka practically fell to the floor laughing. 

Hours later, Anakin was lounging across the entire bench, almost lying down. Obi-Wan had his back to the wall, cloak wrapped tightly around him, boots on the bench and knees up near his chest. His sides hurt from laughing and his head pounded from the alcohol he’d consumed, but he was nowhere ready to leave. 

Ahsoka was taking up the rest of the space, laughing along, six baskets of Endorian chicken in. She’d loosened her belt by a few notches already, but looked no worse for wear. Every time they’d asked for more drinks (switching up which kinds occasionally, just to keep it fresh), they’d asked Ahsoka if she was sure she really wanted another. She always said yes. Obi-Wan couldn’t tell if she was only doing it because she’d said she would, or if the girl genuinely had that kind of appetite. 

“Are they good?” he asked suddenly. 

“Hm?” Ahsoka asked, still chewing. 

He nodded in the vague direction of the basket. 

“Oh!” She chuckled. “Yeah, actually. I gotta remember this place next time we’re on Coruscant. Wanna try?” she asked, holding out a tender. 

“Thanks,” Obi-Wan said, taking it. It really was pretty good. 

“You know who should be here?” Anakin shouted, leaning across the table to get his face nearer to Obi-Wan’s. “Padme!”

“Oh, I haven’t seen the senator in ages! She’d _love_ this,” Obi-Wan agreed. 

Anakin pressed a few buttons on his commlink and Padme’s voice came through. “General Skywalker?” she asked. 

“Padme? Wha-” Anakin’s knotted eyebrows cleared, and he nodded. “Oh, no, no, no- I’m not on business. We’re good. Are you busy?”

“Well, no, no more than usual. But I thought you said not tonight? Obi-Wan needed cheering up?” 

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows knit together. Had he needed cheering up? He looked from Anakin to Ahsoka, then back again, and hid a grin. Yeah. He probably kind of had. 

“I was! Am!” Anakin shouted into the commlink. “But then I thought, why not kill two gundarks with one lightsaber?”

Padme paused just long enough for Anakin to raise the arm his commlink was attached to up to his ear, wondering if she’d cut the connection. When her voice came back through, he jolted, turning his face away and stretching out his arm. “You’re drunk, aren’t you,” she said more than asked. 

Anakin raised the commlink back up to reply. “Obviously. Anyway. We’re gonna come over now, okay? Be there in, I don’t know, ten minutes probly.” 

They were more than ten minutes away from her apartment, weren’t they? Obi-Wan couldn’t quite remember. But Anakin was an excellent pilot. They could probably make it there that fast. 

“Both of you?” Padme asked. 

“And Ahsoka!” 

“Ahsoka’s with you? Anakin, she’s underaged!”

“Don’t I know it,” Ahsoka grumbled into the comm. 

Padme giggled. “Hi, Ahsoka. Well, alright, I suppose. If you’re sure.” 

“We are,” Obi-Wan cut in. Now if only Satine were on Coruscant. Then they’d really have everyone. 

“Then I’ll see you shortly. I trust Ahsoka will be flying.”

“Don’t worry about us, Padme. I’ve got it handled,” Ahsoka answered. 

A few minutes later, they stumbled out into the late night Coruscanti air, clamored into their speeder, and headed off to Senator Amidala’s apartment.


	2. Stays At Padme's

It took longer than ten minutes to arrive at Senator Amidala’s apartment. In his calculations, Anakin seemingly forgot that they were several levels under the surface, and the senator lived in one of the nicest districts on the planet. 

Padme opened the door to let the gaggle of Jedi Knights into her rooms, and laughed when she saw the two humans leaning on each other for support. They waved to her and then collapsed onto her sofa in the middle of the room. 

Anakin got back up immediately and tottered over to her. “Padme! I’m so glad you’re here.” He threw his arms around her, and she, keeping an eye on Obi-Wan curled up on her sofa in her peripheral, hugged him back. 

“Careful, dear. They still don’t know,” she warned in a whisper by his ear. 

Anakin nodded sagely. “Don’t worry. I won’t forget. We were just having a great time just the three of us, but then we thought, you know what would make this even better? You. You make everything better.”

“Enough flattery. Though you’re right,” Padme quipped. 

“I don’t suppose you have any Corellian whiskey lying about,” Obi-Wan asked from the sofa.

Padme hid another laugh. He said it with such composure that she wouldn’t have realized he was drunk if it weren’t for the way he’d already kicked off his boots and curled up in his cloak like that. “You’re in luck, Master Kenobi. In my role as senator, I find it useful to have several options at my disposal for-”

“Wining and dining?” Anakin supplied. 

“Well, yes,” Padme admitted. She went into the next room, which featured a fairly-typical upper-class private bar, fully stocked. She put together a neat whiskey, a Jogan smoothie for Anakin, and a stiff gin and tonic for herself. Rather stiff, in fact. She clearly had some drinking to do if she was to catch up with the other two. 

Setting the three drinks on a tray and adding a small bowl of salted nuts beside, she reentered the room. As the Jedi became absorbed in their drinks again, she took a moment to position herself behind the sofa and catch Ahsoka’s eye. 

“Ahsoka, Ahsoka, come here,” Padme said, waving a hand to call her over and pull her into the next room. 

“Yes, senator?” Ahsoka asked, furrowing her brow. 

Padme pulled a bottle out and poured a small glass of silty-brown liquid. “It’s fine for Togruta. Just don’t let your masters see.”

“You’re human, though,” Ahsoka said, eyeing it. 

“I have guests sometimes, you know,” Padme said with a giggle. 

Ahsoka giggled. “You and Master Shaak Ti drinking together.”

“It’s usually political delegates, though I’m sure I wouldn’t mind sharing a drink with Master Ti.”

Ahsoka took one cautious sip, and looked back up. “Somehow it’s exactly what I expected, and more than what I thought.”

“Is that a good thing?” 

“Not sure yet. Guess I’ll need to drink the rest to find out.” She grinned. “Thanks for this, Padme. And don’t worry. I don’t think we need to worry about the other two being overly perceptive for a while.”

Padme left Ahsoka to finish the drink and come back out while she finished her third gin. The alcohol began to sink into her, and she was a little more jittery than usual. A little more prone to giggling, too. 

“Scoot over,” she told Anakin, and plopped down on the sofa, which wasn’t really meant to accommodate three adults and a teen. That only made an excuse to cuddle up next to her husband without anyone getting suspicious, though, so Padme certainly didn’t mind. 

Over the next hour, they alternated between swapping stories, drinking, and snacking. All were pretty far from sober, with the exception of Ahsoka and her one secret drink from Padme. 

Anakin got up again, and after a few minutes, called out to Ahsoka in the Force. “Hey hey hey hey, Ahsoka, c’mere. And don’t let Obi-Wan notice.”

“What? Why?” Ahsoka asked, extracting herself from the sofa and coming over to where Anakin was behind the bar. “Master Obi-Wan is-”

“Shhh! Just take this,” Anakin said, shoving a glass into her hands. “You deserve it, Snips.”

The same silty stuff from earlier. Ahsoka smirked. “Did Padme tell you-”

“Shhhhhh!” Anakin pressed a gloved finger against Ahsoka’s lips to shush her. “She won’t mind. I’ll tell her later.”

Ahsoka elected not to inform her master that Padme most certainly would not mind, and that this was not her first drink of the night. 

When the two made their way back to the living room, it was to a very chipper Obi-Wan. He stared at Ahsoka for a long moment, and then said, “You know, Ahsoka, I think you’re… turquoise.”

Ahsoka tilted her head and grinned. “I’m orange, though. And blue. And white. But not turquoise.”

“You are, though,” Obi-Wan insisted. “And Anakin’s gold. Really bright gold.”

“Ew. Tatooine’s gold,” Anakin whined.

“No,” Obi-Wan corrected, “Tatooine is dirty.”

“Sure is.”

Obi-Wan nodded confidently. “Exactly. I mean gold. Like your Force signature.”

At that, Anakin sat up from his position leaning against the corner and against the senator and looked at him, confused. “Wait, you see Force signatures in colors?”

“What do you see them in? Smells?” Obi-Wan asked. Padme giggled. 

“They’re… more like feelings,” Anakin explained. 

“Well, yes, of course,” Obi-Wan said, waving off Anakin’s comment like a non sequitur. “But that’s why they’re colors. Gold, Anakin… it’s good.”

“Well what am I, then? I’m not Force-sensitive,” Padme asked him. 

“You’re lilac.”

“And is that good too?”

“Different good.” He smiled. “Satine’s silver.”

“If I’m gold, what’s silver?”

Obi-Wan, pointedly, didn’t answer. He just nestled closer to Anakin and hugged one of Padme’s throw pillows. 

Anakin and Padme exchanged knowing glances and changed the subject. 

Some time later, Obi-Wan called out to Ahsoka in the Force. He watched her eyes slide over to him. “Follow me.” He got up, and sauntered into the bar room, waiting for Ahsoka to follow behind. 

As he suspected, Padme did keep Shili ale for carnivorous races. She likely wouldn’t miss just a glass. He poured some into one of the remaining glasses, and handed it to Ahsoka as she walked up. 

“Wha-” she started to ask. 

Obi-Wan put a hand on Ahsoka’s shoulder. “You’re alright, youngling,” he declared, punctuating the statement with a nod. 

Ahsoka grinned, barely stopping herself from laughing. “Thanks, Master Obi-Wan.” Much to Obi-Wan’s surprise, she downed the contents of the glass in a single gulp. “It’s good,” she said, setting it back down. 

“You’re a natural. Not like Anakin in that respect at all. You know, he- well, you saw. He only likes plebeian cocktails. None of the real stuff.”

Ahsoka giggled. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

“Well, we should really be getting back before those two lovebirds do something they’ll regret.” Obi-Wan moved to leave, seemingly without registering the gravity of what he’d just revealed. 

Ahsoka tried very much not to react as she followed. As the third glass of ale hit her system, Ahsoka’s head definitely felt lighter, and her reflexes weren’t nearly as precise. She almost stumbled a few times, even. 

The others stumbled much more than that, but then again, the adults had all had far more alcohol than she had, and it was well past midnight. Padme hadn’t had any alcohol before the Jedi came over, and while she’d caught up tolerably fast, she still hadn’t had nearly as much as either of the other two. Ahsoka knew her two masters could have nudged along the sobering process with some help from the Force, but they looked to be enjoying the ride thus far. 

She plopped down on the floor by the small table in front of the sofa and snuck glances at the three on the sofa while she pretended to be absorbed in the jerky Padme had brought out for her. Master Obi-Wan had nodded off first, head against Anakin’s shoulder, arm around Padme’s pillows. After that, it hadn’t taken Anakin and Padme long to tip their hand. They seemed to think they were being subtle. 

They were not being subtle. 

It was well into the early hours of the morning now, and even retrieving her cloak from where she’d left it hours earlier, Ahsoka was still starting to shiver in her sleeveless dress. 

Padme managed to pry her mouth away from Anakin’s long enough to notice. She looked to Ahsoka, then at the chrono on the wall, then to Obi-Wan, softly snoring on the other side of the sofa. She untangled herself from Anakin and, with a small smile, disappeared into another room. 

When she came back, she was loaded down with bedding, wobbling with the precarious piles of blankets in addition to the alcohol in her system. Ahsoka rushed over to help, and the two of them covered the sofa entirely in the soft, obviously rather high-end bedding. Padme resumed her position nearly on top of Anakin, and Ahsoka nudged her way next to her. 

It didn’t take long before all were soundly asleep. 

Ahsoka woke to light blinding her from an open slit on the screened window in front of her. She blinked awake, and tried not to gasp when she realized where she was. 

They’d fallen asleep in something of a line, all lazily lounged against the sofa. They’d kind of… tangled up sometime in the night into what really amounted to more of a pile of three Jedi and a senator. 

None of the rest of them were awake yet. The chrono declared it to be nearly mid-morning already, and they really should all be getting back. Ahsoka looked from the chrono, to the window, to the pile, and bit her lower lip with a smile. 

Reaching out with a hand, she used the Force to nudge the slit in the window closed, and snuggled back up, and fell back asleep. 

When next she woke, the chrono read midday, Obi-Wan was gone, and Anakin and Padme were in the kitchen making a very late breakfast. Ahsoka yawned loudly to warn them she was coming (in case they still somehow believed they were keeping any secrets from her), and walked in, holding one of Padme’s blankets around her shoulders like a much softer, bulkier Jedi robe. 

“‘Morning,” she said sheepishly. She looked around. “Why are all the lights off?”

“Shhh,” Anakin whispered. “Not so loud.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Headache,” Padme answered. “Your master will be back to normal soon enough. Bacon?”

Ahsoka gratefully accepted, and the three of them enjoyed a quiet afternoon-morning until none could come up with good enough excuses to be MIA any longer. Padme went back to whatever she did as a politician, and Anakin and Ahsoka flew back to the Temple. 

“Did you catch Master Obi-Wan on his way out?” Ahsoka asked. 

“No, snips, I didn’t,” Anakin said solemnly. “But one thing’s for sure. Master Windu must _never_ find out about this.”

Ahsoka giggled, but nodded in response. “Mum’s the word, Master,” she assured him. 

None of them ever spoke of the incident again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for the wait for this second half here. I wrote the first half at the tail end of February, and then I got bogged by assignments for a couple weeks, and then, well, then it was mid-March, so. I still graduated on time though, so that's cool, even without a ceremony. After everything started happening, even once I was writing again, I just didn't have it in me to write anything *fun,* you know? It ended up being a nice way to unwind once I finally wrote it though. 
> 
> Aaaaanyway, thanks for reading, and thanks for waiting :)

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I don't write all that much crack, or even really much fluff, but I really needed something fun and light to write, and this has been so damn fun. I, personally, am thrilled that it's turning out long enough to warrant 2 chapters, because I can't wait to write chapter 2. 
> 
> Also, I want it known that I had to look up if chickens exist in Star Wars for this. Turns out Battlefront II is what made them canon. They're Endorian, apparently. Also, most of the drink names are from the new Galaxy's Edge restaurant. I added a couple of my own, also.


End file.
